


precious metal matchsticks

by redlight



Category: Original Work
Genre: "kitten" as a pet name used gratuitously, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Begging, Character of Color, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Gentle Sex, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation, Multiple Orgasms, Nonbinary Character, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn With Plot, Riding, Squirting, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, grungy tattoo artist and his bratty apprentice, im a goddamn wreck, laps lock, mostly fluff tho, quarantine posting, self indulgent bullshit, soft, talking about feelings, this is old but i edited a bit so here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23545951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlight/pseuds/redlight
Summary: on some levels, val knows he shouldn’t fuckin’ touch.mel syed is nineteen, looks like a dream, and they’re sogoddamnmean.but val’s found a pretty damn convenient way to snap his own heart in half.
Relationships: Original Male Character(s)/Original Non-Binary Character(s)
Kudos: 39





	1. golden

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer my ocs are fuckin stupid

on some levels, val knows he shouldn’t fuckin’ touch.

mel syed is nineteen, looks like a dream, and they’re so _goddamn_ mean.

really, _really_ , they are—there’s blood in the gums of their toothy smile and their delicate fingers are bruised to shit all over their knuckles. mel’s vicious in all the vivid ways, beautiful and brutal, and val—

val’s found a pretty damn _convenient_ way to snap his own heart in half.

so, on some levels, he knows he shouldn't touch. knows that mel will burn his fingerprints off and keep the char for themself, knows that mel will take him and everything he is and steal it and _keep it._

val doesn't need an identity, does he? or whatever.

but it's—it's pretty damn tempting, to have mellie in his bed. to have curly-wave hair all to himself, honey-brown eyes peeking up, wide and wet. valeri isn't _good_ at restraint. he's never been. he's made of impulse decisions and bad ideas, and mel—

mel is _kind of_ both.

so mel is in his bed. so mel is in his shirt. so mel is caught between his fingertips, shaking and gasping, and that—

 _that_ gets something sick and messy inside val all _greedy_.

he wants mel in so many ways it's kind of ridiculous—wants mel's grin smeared in the lipstick stains on the underside of val's jaw. he wants mel's nail polish smudged up on the cigarette they pluck out of val's hands with a _tsk_ , wants the smoke down his lungs like inhalants and aerosol.

mel's kind of crazy. val's kind of into that.

so.

see, val’s got an issue. let’s call it a _condition_ , let’s call it _involuntary_ , let’s call it _can’t help it_ —his voice box is greased up to shit, slicked back with tar. he can’t _speak_ properly, not ‘bout the neurons in his brain that _spark-spark-fire-burn_ whenever mel looks at him.

let's call it _death of a friend._

let's call it _rest in pieces, peace of mind, who needed that bitch anyway?_

but val—valeri's not the kinda guy who gets peace of mind, anyway. val's the kind of guy that shuts his eyes off tight and turns his brains off as best he can with whatever's closest and see what _works_.

lucid dreaming feels good when he has mel in his lap, that head of black hair curled against his chest, pretty black eyelashes fringed with mascara and a mouth that tastes sweet when val gets too greedy again.

( _real life mel_ is different. real life mel isn't calming, real life mel has a grin like a fuckin' shark and likes to dig their nails into val's back, likes to purr and say they like the way the scratches look.

real life mel brushes their fingernails up val's side and snickers, _pale as salt, pretty boy,_ with another kiss against the corner of val's mouth, _sweet as sugar._

real life mel smiles and slides off val's lap. real life mel stumbles into val's kitchen and makes breakfast even though their walk is shaky. real life mel calls him _valeri_ instead of shortening it.

real life mel kisses him on the cheek and _says same time next week?_ as a tease whenever they leave.

and real life mel _always_ leaves.)

so. so. so.

val's probably not supposed to hurt himself with all of dream mel's sharp edges and soft eyes, shouldn't hurt himself with _i love you i love you valeri_ and whatever the fuck else his sick little brain can think of—

whatever.

but. this? this can be nice. having mel in his lap— _real life_ , 'cause he knows how this fuckin' feels, he _knows_ —he likes seeing mel's mouth part in a gasp whenever val spreads their thighs open, likes knowing that ms. malaika syed would fucking _kill him_ if she knew what valeri was doing to her kid—

not to be like, gross about it, but. still.

mel came over to val's place again today—and they don’t _get it_ , do they? mel doesn't realize that they dress like a goddamn dream, doesn't realize they’re so _pretty_ , inside and out. and val is—

val gets it, the physicality, and feeling mel's skin against his own gets him _high_ in ways he probably isn't legally allowed to talk about. but.

but—

yeah, this _condition_ , let's say it sunk down to valeri's guts and twisted them up. let's say he's infested with parasitic butterflies.

let's say he's fucking _ruined_ for love, 'cause he has mel instead.

mel's perched up on his kitchen counter like they own it, like usual, but val guesses that if mel owns val, then they own everything val's got too, right? somethin' like that. seems reasonable.

and mel's—cute in the dress they're wearing. short and summery, black with red flowers. it's _cute_. if val peeks hard enough he can see the slight remnants of hand-sized bruisemarks whenever mel's skirt shifts too high.

and mel's—got their sketchbook out again, their smile bright and excited.

"so i was! i was talkin' to sveta 'bout the stuff you usually drew, and tellin' her i wanted to take a lil bit of your style but make it more—um, what's the word—uh! soft? 'cause yours is super sharp, like the bold lines and stuff, and it's really cool but i don't wanna rip you off _that much_ , and i was thinkin'—"

it makes val chuckle, he can't help it. _fuck_. fuck this little _brat_ for breaking and entering into val's life, into val's dreams, fuck this _stupid, beautiful, talented kid_ for disrupting every moment of rest val could ever think of having.

for taking val over like this.

just—

he's a _slimy fuck_ for this, val knows that, 'cause mel is here—on _innocent_ business. mel is flashing those fire alarm eyes at him in curiosity, asking for approval, for companionship, not what—not what val's already got running through his head at 331.4 meters per second, all the time, all the time, _all the time_.

and mel squeaks when val's hands land on either side of their hips. yelps when val gently tugs the sketchbook out of their grip and gently places it to the side, far enough away that it doesn't get stained _just in case_ —

"valeri?" and shit, there's no fuckin' _sense_ , how mel makes him feel like corruption incarnate. mel isn't innocent. mel's just as filthy and just as fucked up as val is, even if they are pretty enough to mask it all.

but something about the brown eyes widening and that fucking _gasp_ when val holds onto their waist, thumbs at their hip piercings through the delicate dress fabric—

something about that makes mel look— _innocent_. incorruptible. something valeri shouldn't touch.

not that val ever listens to rules or reason.

it’s nice though, how mel opens up to him, how mel leans into his touch. it’s _nice_.

mel giggles nervously as val starts to mouth up their neck, leaning back just a bit even though their voice goes heavy with want. “ _mm_ —valeri! c’mon, i wanted to talk ‘bout your tattoo art today—”

“yeah,” val breathes out, brushing a lock of hair out of mel’s eyes. “but you look so _gorgeous_ , kitten, c’mon. y’know i’m bad at self-control. just let me have a taste—”

and mel squeaks. shivers and clamps their thighs together. “you—i’m—maybe not today, i’m—it’s a bad time.”

—yeah, okay, but mel fucking _shivered_ like val just pinched their clit, and he hasn’t even _touched them_ —“bad time? what’s up?”

“just!” mel’s cheeks flush, warm pink on brown skin. “it’s—” val runs his hand up mel’s back, means for it to be soothing, but mel _yelps_. extra sensitive, huh. “b-bad time. c’mon, valeri, i’m—i’m on my period, you don’t wanna—do this with me,” and fuck, mel’s _pouting_ now. “next week, okay? sorry.”

and val—val’s a _filthy fuck_ , he knows that, mel knows that, they all know that, god. “why wouldn’t i want you like this?”

“it’s! it’s gross, you don’t gotta—” mel’s voice gets higher and higher as val starts mouthing up their neck again. “ _v-val_ —”

“would it make you feel better, kitty?” and shit, that’s a _fair bit_ lower than val’s voice usually gets, he can’t hide this, he really can’t hide this—“c’mon, baby, i’m at your service. i can help with the cramps. just fingers, if you want. it’s not gross, i promise.”

"yes it is, oh my god, val-" but mel whines again, squeezing their thighs together and val's grin crooks up the side of his face at the sight. "okay! okay, yes, it'll help with the cramps, but—"

"kitty, all i wanna do is help you."

"you're fuckin' gross, y'know that?" mel mumbles, and, yeah, they’re stating the obvious but it just makes val grin into their neck. "f-fine. okay. i. yeah. it'll help. i try to use my fingers sometimes but it's—i get frustrated! it's hard."

and maybe, just maybe val's being mean when he pulls mel close-close-closer, enough to see the lil freckles on their throat, on the bumps of their collarbones. mean enough to make mel squeal at the friction. "gettin' fucked would help a lot, wouldn't it, sweetheart." val presses his mouth to mel's hair, above their ear. "gettin' to come would help, right?"

"oh my god." mel smacks his shoulder and val pulls back, snickering. "gross! you're gross. disgusting." and it's true, but it's also really fucking _cute_ , 'cause mel stumbles when they get off the counter. kitty's already so worked up and that has val hungry like a goddamn fire hungers for oxygen.

but mel looks back up at him, and shit, those eyelashes are gonna be the death of him, of them both if mel doesn't use them for good. "i'm not—i'm not doin' this here! this dress is nice, and new, and clean and pretty and we're _keepin' it that way, valeri_." mel smoothes their hands down the soft fabric, and when they turn in the direction of val's bedroom the skirt flares around their thighs. "i'm changing out of this—"

"aw, c'mon, why wear anything at all?"

mel looks back over their shoulder. "i want your sweatshirt. the big one. it's red and has hearts on it, i like it."

fuck, of course they do, the little shit. val knows exactly what they’re talkin' about—a red and black sweatshirt that reaches halfway down mel's thighs and has a pattern of card suits. would match mel's lipstick and their cute shoes, would match the black-red-triangle knee socks, would match their goddamn black nail polish.

of fuckin' _course_ val's gonna give it to them.

"sure thing, kitty," val says, tryna keep the grin out of his voice—he gets to have mel for the day, maybe the night, gets to make his kitten feel good, 'cause his kitten _needs him—_

_shit, kalaydzhiev, gettin' a little screwy in the head, there._

mel’s already kicked off their lil kitten heels, heh—is already peering through val’s closet to get what they need—

“so, mellie, what’s your poison? pads or tampons?”

—and mel throws their dress into val’s face. “oh my god!”

val snickers, but he pouts a little when he gets the fabric off his eyes just as mel’s pulling the sweatshirt down around their thighs. it’s just as long as the dress was, shit, valeri missed the show—“what? i’d find out anyway.”

“we need a towel,” mel says instead of answering his _very valid_ question.

“now you’re startin’ to make me think you’ve done this before.”

“i jerk off, like, every day. fuck off.” it takes a little obsession to see, but one of mel’s front teeth is smeared with just the teeniest bit of red lipstick. makes val chuckle, makes val—

makes him starve for it.

mel’s really taking initiative here, like this is something that’s been on their mind for a _while_ , like they've thought this through before. they snap val’s bathroom door shut behind them for a couple minutes, comes out with a dark brown towel and lays it on the bed as best they can, straightening it out on their hands and knees, and—

“pads, really?”

mel squeaks and leans back, pulling val’s sweatshirt back over their ass, but, uh, too late. val already caught sight of their panties, plain black. wings and shit. val knows his shit, okay.

“...usually both when i’m wearing dresses,” mel grumbles. “just in case! but i—i took the tampon out.”

“right,” val drawls out. likes the way mel’s eyes widen when his weight dips onto the bed, likes how mel huffs in sharply. “c’mon, kitty. open up for me. i wanna see.”

“ _gross_ ,” mel says under their breath again.

okay, so, confession time that ain’t even really a confession—val loves looking at mel’s cunt. like, it’s cute as fuck. val just—he’s into it. into looking.

sure, it—it gets people flustered, that he’s gotta look at their holes so intently, but. god, he’s a gross fuck. just let him have this.

but mel—mel’s already got their socks rolled down, and it’s nice to see the way their fingers stutter at the hem of their panties. “do you really gotta look so hard?”

“i wanna see you all messy, baby,” val breathes, trailing his fingertips up mel’s thigh. “wanna take care of you, make it all better. c’mon. i wanna treat you.”

and—for all mel’s defensive brattiness, the laugh they let out is soft, warm again. “really? you ain’t just treatin’ yourself?”

“what’s wrong with a lil of both?” val presses another kiss to mel’s jaw. “ _baby_. i wanna take care of you. i wanna make you happy. any kinda relief you need, kitten. i’m here.”

mel sighs breezily and—they plant their ass on the towel and slip their panties down. flushes red ‘cause val keeps _staring_ , presses their knees together—

yelps when val pushes them open and apart. “ _fuck_ , sweetheart, you really are messy, aren’tcha?”

“v- _valeri_ —“ and shit, the sound that comes out of mel’s throat is _gorgeous_ , when val pushes two fingers against their hole.

 _yeah, sensitive_.

“val, oh my god, c’mon—“ but mel’s breaking off into a squeal, and—shit, they're so easy to open up, val’s fingers slide in smooth, mel’s so _hot_ on the inside, clinging and sloppy and sticky—

maybe val should be gentle.

maybe val should pull every sound out of mel until mel can’t make them anymore.

decisions, right?

and mel—

mel’s holding onto val’s forearms, so tight the circulation might cut off—their nails are leaving little scratches every time val thrusts in a little deeper, rubs his fingertips against mel’s insides—

val pushes his thumb up against mel’s clit, rubs it roughly, and mel _sobs_. “fuck! fuck fuck fuck, v-val, _valeri_ —”

baby’s _so damn sloppy_ just like this, taking a third finger so easy, and val’s _seriously_ considering licking them out, tasting all that mess and easing the pain out, but he’s really not willing to clean his tongue piercing again today, he’s already done it— _one day though, goddammit, he’s licking up that cherry-red cunt_ —

val presses his forehead against mel’s heaving chest, smothered by the fabric of his own sweatshirt. mel keeps clenching down so _tight_ around his fingers, their hips bucking back desperately and frantically as they dig his nails into val’s shoulders, their voice _breaking_ from their moans—

and val slips his fingers out to see how fuckin’ soaking red they are.

“you—!” mel’s voice is practically a shriek. “why the _fuck did you stop_ , what the hell is wrong with you, i was—“ they hiccup, shit, _shit_ , those pretty eyes are getting wet— “i was so _close_ and then you—!”

“ _fuck_ , i’m sorry, kitty, i just wanted to see—“ and _yeah_ he can see, mel’s pretty cunt all bloodied up with strands clinging to his wrinkling fingertips, _fuck he almost wants to taste_ —

mel _whines_ , “put them _back_!”

damn, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen his kitten this desperate before.

“sorry, baby, i’m sorry,” val keeps breathing out, trying not to—well, chuckle, and he slips his fingers back inside, listening to mel’s ragged breathing and teeny-tiny whimpering. “that better?”

“ _fuck me_.”

—jesus.

and mel's hands are fast-frantic against val's belt, they’re sitting up and kicking their feet so val moves faster, and _fuck, fuck_ , kitten sounds like a dream this desperate—

and they _are_ desperate, with their voice shattering into a million pieces, " _fuck me_! valeri, v-val, you gotta—" mel hiccups and spreads their legs open, what a fuckin' _sweetheart—_ "i _need it_ , daddy, need to be filled up, i wanna come, _please_ , please _, i need you, daddy—_ "

fuck. _fuck fuck **fuck**_.

how can val _not_ listen to that? his parasitic butterflies are pounding through his ribcage, eating up val's heart and lungs and tryna break free through every barrier his body has. how can he _not break_?

mel's whimpering, mel's ankles are so goddamn _light_ when val gets them hooked over his shoulders. delicate and pretty, angelic and innocent, _ruthless and terrifying_ , _bloodthirsty and filthy_ , his kitten’s everything, _everything_.

he’s got his belt off so quick val doesn't even know how it happened, but soon enough his cock is bare and _he's so fucking hard he might pass out_ but he has mellie to take care of first instead.

and, and fuck. he's gonna fuckin' _take care of them._

the _sound_ mel makes when val finally pushes into them—it's soft, it's pleading, it's brutal and beautiful, and val can't breathe for a minute.

“kitty, you doin’ okay?” val rasps out. the craving is gonna spill out of his bones, he just knows it—his poor body isn’t meant to handle the _weight_ of this, he’s _so tired_ , so tired of loving and loving and fucking and _needing_ without return that he just—

val has to squeeze his eyes shut.

“valeri,” mel says. “v-val, valeri—” fingertips thread through val’s hair, _gentle, gentle,_ nails don’t bite and when mel squeezes tight around his cock val _gasps_.

—baby’s so warm, his baby’s _always_ hot and soft, always a fuckin’ dream around val’s cock, but—

“v-val, baby, are you crying?”

val almost laughs, almost grins through his teeth and flashes another shitty smile, but it doesn’t _work_.

what comes out instead is a muffled whimper, and mel, mel—they’re pulling back, their hands holding val’s face so gently, like _valeri_ is the thinnest, most fragile piece of pottery, meant to shatter with too much pressure.

(and mel, maybe—

maybe mel is the molten gold to be poured through the cracks, to repair and replenish.

maybe mel’s the molten gold to be set into all the broken and shattered parts of val’s ribcage, maybe mel is gonna build up another shield for his heart. shimmering bright, light, stronger than before.

maybe mel’s—)

mel’s thumb brushes up against a wet splotch on val’s cheek, and val—

his heart valves open up and he _sobs_.

“o-oh, oh _honey_ , baby—” mel’s rambling, sitting up and holding val’s face close to their chest—val’s staining his own sweatshirt with tears so at least it’s not _that bad_ — “baby, baby, what happened? valeri? i’m here, i’m here—”

“i’m _sorry_ —”

this is ridiculous. this is _ridiculous_. he’s still _inside_ mel.

but mel’s threading their fingers through val’s messy hair, mel’s pressing their mouth to the top of valeri’s head where he’s slumped over. “shh, nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. i’m here, honey, i’m _here—_ ”

“i—i-i just—i _need you_ ,” val hiccups. “i _need you_ mellie, i love you, i just—”

“val—” mel’s kissing his temple, the top of his nose, the corner of his mouth. “valeri, i love you too, what’s wrong—we can stop, it’s okay, we can stop and talk about it—”

val tries to pull away, to wipe at his tears, but mel—won’t let him go. he sniffles wetly. “you really love me?”

“ _god_ , yes, i love you—” mel—mel’s making movements to pull up off of valeri’s cock, uses the oversized sweater sleeves to gently wipe at val’s face. “lemme get you some tea, okay, sweetie? we can just relax and talk, we don’t gotta—”

mel _squeals_ when val drags them back, stuffing them full again.

“i—i don’t wanna stop, mellie.”

“valeri—”

“i _don’t wanna stop_.” val chuckles bitterly. “i’m ‘sposed to be the one takin’ care of you.”

“valeri.” mel carefully lifts val’s chin up, looks him in the eyes. “i think we should take a break. i can—i’ll make you some tea. just to calm down.”

val wheezes out another laugh. “do i even have tea?”

“you _do_ , actually, i know ‘cause svetlana gave you some and told me.” mel pets val’s cheek gently. “i’m leavin’ the door open. you can come with, or you can wait, i’ll keep talkin’ to you—”

and as much as val wants them to _stay stay stay_ , as much as val wants to pull mel back in and wrap them up in his arms, as much as val wants to pull each of mel’s ribs open and crawl inside for _warmth, safety, love_ , he—

he doesn’t. he lets mel up, watches blearily as some red drips down mel’s thighs and they squirm and pull their discarded panties back up from where they were tossed off to the side.

mel has this particular way of pulling skirts, and dresses, and long sweaters, down around their thighs. it’s cute. it makes val’s fingers itch. it makes val’s eyes well up again, and he—

shit. he almost wipes his eyes with his bloody fingers. he snickers again. he’s always gonna be a gross fuck, it’s not like he’d _mind_ , but mel probably would.

and mel—mel doesn’t take long. they set the kettle on and they stumble back in to lean against the doorway, playing with val’s too-long sweater sleeves. “is—is anything goin’ on, val? something you need to talk about?”

val sighs, rubs his face with his clean hand. “nothin’ new, sweetheart, i just. i dunno. got overwhelmed.” he sighs and looks at mel’s feet. they’re still wearing those cute fuckin’ socks. “i. i—you said you loved me.”

mel—sighs. this heavy kinda sigh, the kinda sigh that says there’s stones in their guts like valeri’s weighing them down with all this, all this _bullshit_ , says—

says, “i did. i did say that.” mel brushes their own hair out of their face, clears their eyes up for val to see, really see. “it’s the truth. i mean it.”

maybe val’s been thinkin’ himself in circles this whole time. spinnin’ ‘round and ‘round on his potter’s wheel, built up with fear and fear and fear and _need_ —

but he’s not spinning anymore. “ _fuck_ , mel,” val says threadily, his laugh breaking off into something of a sob. “god, kitten. i love you too.”

mel steps closer, slowly at first, hand reached out like they’re—

the kettle starts squealing. it’s funny, it makes mel squeak and whirl around. “uh! lemme just get that, you—you like jasmine tea or just black—”

“i like the way you make it,” val admits, feeling the edges of his mouth turn up into a smile more genuine than he’s used to. “it’s—it feels like home. if that’s okay to say.”

“you’re a _sap_ , valeri.” but the smile that mel gives him over their shoulder is _so, so worth it_ — “i love you, too.”

it—it’s making val feel a little silly. it’s making val feel like he has sunshine in his stomach and gold in his veins.

it only takes, like, a minute for mel to get the tea together. they make two mugs, and they sit down beside val on the bed carefully and cautiously hands him the mug with the purple cat on it. his little sister sveta got it for val’s birthday, like two years ago, and mel’s got their own dungeons and dragons-themed mug that they left at val’s place as a ‘gift’, this _fucking nerd_ —

it’s kinda ridiculous, but—yeah, val has this tea memorized. it’s the same one ms. malaika made for him whenever she let him stay over as a kid—back when she wasn’t worried about his salacious intentions towards her mel. black tea, two spoons sugar, boiling water and topped up with a generous amount of milk. cinnamon, sometimes, cardamom others. sometimes plain.

it’s hot on val’s tongue, and he can’t tell whether he jolts from the burn of the tea or the heat of mel’s thigh pressing beside his.

“today wasn’t a good day, was it, val?”

val looks back into the mug. it—he wasn’t exaggerating the _comfort_ thing with this. the color of the tea almost looks like mel’s skin and it’s something he’s just gotten _used to_ , with knowing mel. “it wasn’t a bad day. i mean, i thought i was okay. i just. yeah.” val presses his thumb against the rim of the mug. “you never said you loved me before.”

“...yeah, i guess i didn’t.”

“i thought you didn’t,” says val. “so. yeah. that’s why i—that’s why i was crying. but i’m. i’m okay now, mellie, swear to god.”

mel blinks at him. they nudge their arm into val’s. “just drink your tea, babe.”

“y’know,” val rasps out. “i really thought fuckin’ you while you’re bleedin’ out on my dick would be way more fun than this.”

mel chokes on a sip. “do you—do you _ever_ fuckin’ _think_ ‘bout the shit that actually comes out of your mouth?”

“i hope it’s you, sweetheart, ‘cause _next time_ i’m lickin’ you out like you’re a cherry candy cane.”

“holy _fucking shit_.” but mel’s giggling now, too. “you’re the fuckin’ worst!”

“and you _love me_ ,” val teases, and—

fuck, there’s a giddiness in this throat that’s fucking with his _condition_ in all sorts of ways, and—

mel clinks their mug down on the bedside table, and it really shouldn’t be the loudest sound in the room, with val’s heart and all, but. well. funny how things happen.

“mellie—?” _okay_ , val chokes a little when he sees mel pushing their panties down again, almost spills his mug all over his own chest when mel swings one leg over to straddle him.

the towel, wherever it is, is _not_ on mel’s mind anymore. they grin their terrifyingly beautiful grin of theirs, like a saber-toothed tiger, like the ultraviolence of the sun.

enough to blind val, really.

mel’s fingers steady val’s cup of tea before val can spill it all over himself. “ _baby_ ,” mel purrs. “don’t spill any, okay?” they’re pressing _close so close_ , this kid is _fuckin’ crazy_ —

 _fuck_ , val can feel mel’s wetness dripping onto his own thighs like this, _his bed sheets are gonna be so fucked but that’s fine_ —

val’s gotta _really try_ not to tip the mug over when mel presses their slicked-up hole against the head of val’s cock. “if you’re _good_ ,” mel drawls. “and don’t spill a _drop_ , maybe i’ll really let you eat me out like this.”

—val’s eyes widen. “no, baby, c’mon. gimme another deal, that’s not fair—”

that kitty-cat smirk is gonna _kill him_. “that’s the deal, valeri.”

val, suffice to say, is not good enough, but the orgasm is _so worth it_.

(it’s also worth all the kisses mel gives him after, shining gold and sweet, _i love you, i love you, valeri_.)


	2. platinum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look redlight wrote red wings

mel always realizes they’re cramping, like, _way_ after they already started.

and like—it could be worse. they've been in bar fights before, gotten their face fucked up, gotten punched in the stomach. like—it could be _worse_. 

it’s still—

it makes them feel—bad. hot and gooey and sticky in all the wrong ways, the pain creeping up their tummy. sometimes they get cramps in their feet too, gets _headaches_ —

just. their whole body gets _sore_.

and they—every time they try to _sit_ and they aren’t paying attention to _how_ theyre sitting, mel just—mel’s so fucking _sensitive_ that a jolt spikes up through their cunt up their spine and makes them _squeak_.

...that’s the other thing. being _ridiculously fuckin’ horny_.

yeah, now that val knows, he keeps getting such a _smarmy grin_ about it. last month he fucked mel through a couple days of it, kept commenting on how his dick was _soaking red_ after and saying as much _stupid bullshit_ he could possibly think of—

_aw c’mon baby twizzlers, let me see that pussy—_

_fuck, see my come leaking out like that? you’re like a candy cane, kitten—_

_is cherry jam a thing ‘cause you remind me of that, sweetheart—_

thankfully at some point val started to run out of sweet red things to mention.

so. well. yeah. mel’s boyfriend is a fucking disgusting mess. what else is new.

(mel’s kind of _into_ valeri’s brand of disgusting mess.)

there’s. there’s one thing that mel hasn’t let him do.

see—well! uh. mel _really_ likes being eaten out. val ain’t new to this! he _knows that_ , he does it _all the damn time_. mel can’t think of a day where val’s stupid tongue piercing _hasn’t_ flicked out in a tease and made mel blush to their goddamn ears.

it’s just. it’s really nice. and val’s _really_ good with his tongue, like, stupid good.

anyway.

“so, strawberry swirl, what’s the plan for today?” valeri drawls out, his hand flitting across mel’s waist and it makes mel’s breath hitch.

(val has big hands! val can—val can touch his fingertips at the small of mel’s back, it’s—it’s kind of _maddening_ —)

“stop callin’ me—“

“raspberry lemonade,” valeri adds on with this _shit-eating_ grin. “cherry sundae.” his hands skim up mel’s shirt, push their shorts down just a little, enough to play with mel’s hip piercings and make them shiver. “ _kitten_. what’s the plan for today?”

“i wanna die.”

“yeah, i can tell, this is the third time you’ve turned the kettle on for your hot water bottle.” val leans against the kitchen counter, pulling mel with him. “which, by the way, you pour into that thing like a crazy person.”

—mel laughs, startled. “what?”

“you hold the hot water bottle with two fingers and pour into boiling water into it— _which_ , by the way, i read the instructions on that thing, the water _isn’t_ supposed to be boiling—and you just! you’re gonna spill that, one day, sweetheart!” mel _yelps_ as valeri hefts them up into his arms, _holy shit holy shit_ they know val’s bigger than they are but the fact that he can just _do that_ drives them _crazy_ — “don’t wantcha gettin’ hurt, mellie.”

“why don’t you do it for me,” mel mumbles, tucking their face into val’s neck. “it _hurts_.”

other—other stupid thing. mel tends to get—sad like this. tired and needy.

 _stupid_.

but something in val’s voice softens. “that’s what i’m here for, kitten. lemme do it all for you.”

mel sniffles. 

_that_ makes val started to ramble like a runaway train with broken brakes. “ _kitty_ , mellie, c’mon, you okay? what’s up, i’ll set you up, get that blanket you like, we can watch—fuckin’, _lord of the rings_ , if it makes you feel better—baby—”

and it’s _stupid_ , mel’s being dumb, but something about how—how _caring_ val is, how he’s offering to _do all this_ —

“it _hurts_!” mel sniffles again. “and i’m—i don’t—i need you—”

“ _shh_ , you got me, baby.” it’s almost like mel is a _kid_ , but val’s carrying them into the living room with mel wrapped around him like a 3-year-old, settling them both down on the couch gently. “what can i do for you?”

“fuck me.” okay maybe mel didn’t _intend_ to say that but—

“you sure?”

mel sniffles even _louder_. “please, daddy?”

and val—

see, valeri’s got this _look_ about him—he’s sharp on his edges, silver and platinum on his points and corners. glints of shiny metal—all those _piercings_ , in his brow, in his ears up and down, his nose, his _tongue_ —well, he’s got this shimmer to him. glints in the light. shines up with those grins whenever mel looks at him. 

he’s pretty—val’s pretty. but there’s something about him that gets _soft_ , malleable, secure and stable whenever mel needs it. 

so mel likes the way val’s eyes soften, likes how his voice slides a touch lower—he always gets like that when mel calls him _daddy_ , it’s just—it makes mel shiver up their spine. they don't even _have a kink for this shit_ , swear to god, but— 

but mel _really_ likes how val’s into it. so. mel might as well be.

mel whines airily as their head touches the sofa cushions. “v-val?” almost tries to turn their head to the side, but—

mel squeaks when they feel their thighs get forced open. val’s voice is ragged like he’s got rust in his throat. “you call me _daddy_ , baby. understand?”

“yes, daddy.” val’s fingers are doing _something_ , pulling down mel’s shorts, catching on the hem of their panties— “a-are you sure you wanna—?” 

mel winces as another cramp builds up in their tummy, makes their feet kick a little when val doesn’t let them _close_ their _legs_.

but—god. val’s lookin’ at them like he’s _hungry_ , like he’s _starving_ , he’s every shade of depraved that _exists_ in the color dictionary of sin, mel just _knows it_ —

“daddy we’re gonna get the couch dirty—”

“i wanna _taste you_ , mellie.”

oh my god. oh holy shit.

maybe mel’s short-circuiting. mel’s maybe got their electrons fucked up. maybe val is magnetic and maybe val is here to pinch out all the badness, draw it out of mel with every soft kiss to their skin, _maybe val_ —

“you’re gross,” mel wheezes out instead, and val just gives them this sloppy grin.

“sorry, kitty, didn’t hear that.”

“you’re gross, _daddy_.”

“good.” val’s smile _burns_ against the inside of mel’s thigh. “god, i’ve been wanting this. fuckin’ love it when you’re all sensitive and squirming on my tongue.”

—mel’s cheeks flush _red hot_ again. “v-val—!”

val pulls their shorts down, gets them down to mel’s ankles before shoving mel’s panties down too, makes mel _squeal, they forgot the towel—_

and then there’s a hot tongue licking up their hole and it makes mel _yelp_.

“d-daddy—!”

they’re _sensitive like this_ , each touch to their cunt a jolt through their system, and val—

 _val buries his face in_.

mel can’t breathe for a good few seconds, ‘cause their boyfriend is _gross, so fucking gross!_ but—

“valeri you need to get the _towel!_ ”

and god, val pulls back—his lips smeared a little red, his cheek splattered, _fuck does mel’s cunt clench at that_ , as he pulls his own shirt off in a flurry of movement and tangled hair. doesn’t even get his piercings caught like he does sometimes, but mel might scream in frustration if he did, ‘cause— 

val’s lifting mel’s hips and tucking his own shirt underneath, growling out “ _does this work, baby?_ ” and ducking his head back in. 

it probably works, fuck, _fuck, but everything’s so sensitive_ and mel’s babbling something out they don’t know _what_ but their toes are digging into val’s bare shoulder blades, _val always hikes mel’s legs up like this without mel even noticing how does he—_

val’s stupid _tongue ring_ smears up against mel’s sweet spots and mel _sobs_.

“d-daddy, god, _god_ you’re so gross—” mel whines out, their thighs _aching_ with how hard they’re shaking and the need to come driving their heart through their throat. val presses his fingers inside so he can keep curling them right where mel needs them the most, _one then two then t-three_ —but he uses his _filthy mouth_ to suck at mel’s clit and—

“ _fuck_ , f-fuck, daddy, _please_ —i-i can’t, oh my god, i can’t—”

and val—presses his face into mel’s trembling thigh, his fingers still _working_ , his thumb coming to rub mel’s clit _raw_ the crazy fucking bastard—

mel can barely breathe, god they’re so _loose_ like this val just keeps slipping out and losing grip, they can’t—

val does _something_ , something that makes mel’s breath catch and their lungs choke, makes their fucking _vision_ spark, leaves them shivering and panting and staring up at the dots on the ceiling in awe.

“ _shit_ , kitten, you got so tight,” val rasps out, his sticky teeth scraping against the slickness of mel’s thigh. “did you come, baby?”

“n-no,” mel hiccups. even though it kinda felt like they did. “i don’t think so.”

“can i keep going?”

“ _yes_.”

smug smile against their skin. makes them whine again. “anything you want, lovely. anything.”

mel sniffles noisily again. they're not sure how to make any other sounds, which— _embarrassing_. "you're _gross_."

"do you like it, though?" val's grin peeks out from their skin. his cheek is smeared red, their thigh is smeared red, and mel's heart beats red-flushed-furious.

" _yes i like it_." and that only incentivizes val _more_.

" _good_."

his tongue is hot-hot-hot against the sensitive swell of their hole, his fingers prying them open even further apart and they're _shaking_ , _shaking_ , until he finally finally pulls back. "god, kitten, can i fuck you?"

" _yes_! you're so _dumb_!"

"so mean," val murmurs, and he looks so delighted it makes mel squirm. "so demanding. i love it." 

"i'm not demanding!" 

"yes you _are_. c'mere, kitten." and val doesn't seem to give a fuck about undoing his belt and forcing his jeans down with his red-stained fingers, what a _disgusting idiot_ , but mel's too dizzy-eyed and eager to really put any judgement on him. they just wait as patiently with their knees drawn up to their chest and their thighs spread to let val look at their cunt as much as he likes. he says they look sweet there. he says they look _tempting_.

 _original sin, sweetheart, apple red and just as sweet_ , he's said sometime, even when mel tried to argue that it wasn't an _apple_ it was a _fig tree_ —

they can't think about that instance anymore. val's heavy cockhead pushes up against their pussy and they _gasp_ , wet and loud.

"oh!"

val's eyes are narrowed, pupils blown wide. “so messy, baby,” he says, even though his face is a _disaster_ like he just committed a goddamn murder, pleased and covered in blood, but mel’s cunt flutters at the thought and _they’re gross so gross—_

val’s cock is a nice, sweet weight inside them, something they’ve gotten used to, that they’ve decided fits _perfectly_ , but their cunt still aches as he spears them open. makes mel whimper, clenching and fluttering without really meaning to—his cock stuffs them _full_ , and he doesn’t move too fast but he makes sure they can _feel it_ , sore muscles and all.

“ _daddy—”_ mel sniffles, as val messily rubs their thrumming clit. "d-daddy it's so much, it's so m-m- _much!_ " they squeal as he thrusts into them _just right_ as he pinches their clit, and they squirt all over their thighs and his. 

"fuck," val says, startled. "fuck, holy _fuck_ , kitten—look what you did."

mel whimpers and turns their head to the side. their cheeks are flushed and their heart beats a frantic alarm in their ribs— _he's gonna think it's weird, it's gross_ — 

"you are so _fucking hot_ ," val murmurs, eyes wide. "c'mere, baby, kiss me—oh honey, don't cry—" 

"so much," mel gasps, weakly squeezing val's cock with their tired muscles. "s-so much." they're wavering, tears soaking their cheeks. " _d-daddy_ , come in me, please—"

"i got you, _i got you, kitten_."

val's thrusts are sloppy, squelching into mel with hot fervor that makes them blush manically, but sure enough, they gasp as his hips stutter and warmth spills into their insides.

" _daddy!_ "

"take it, darlin', c'mon, take it." val thumbs a tear off their cheek, pinches their clit again with his other hand, and they sob as it forces another orgasm from their shivering body. 

mel makes a face as val goes to pull out. a mess of come and pink-splotch blood spills out from their sore, pleased cunt, all over their thighs and onto val's far-too-thin, far-too-displaced shirt. they can't bother to care about it too much, though—they make grabby hands at their boyfriend.

"kitten," val chuckles lightly, but his eyebrows are furrowed all worried. he's such a cute dummy. "you okay, baby? you're crying." 

"mm, love you."

val's face splits into a grin, platinum shining and all. "i love you too, mellie." 

mel nods, smiles back, and knocks out asleep, knowing their val will keep them safe.


End file.
